


Smol Mage and Manpain Lion

by Dragomir



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Carrying, Dragons, Fluff, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Past Character Death, Romantic fluff and nonsense, Sleepy Cuddles, nuzzling, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/pseuds/Dragomir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the little LionTrust prompts I've been filling over on my tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drunk!Khadgar

**Author's Note:**

> The first prompt: Lothar discovers that Khadgar is hilarious when drunk.

“You are….very…veeeeery pretty.“

Lothar smiles and pats the side of Khadgar’s face.  It takes a _lot_ of alcohol to get his mage drunk, but in the end, the cost of the rum is _worth it_.  (Also, the unholy hangover Khadgar will be experiencing tomorrow, instead of _him_ , will be more than worth the cost.)

“No! No, really,“ Khadgar insists, rubbing his forehead against Lothar’s shoulder. “You’re really, really pretty. You have such niiiiiiice eyes.“ He says it with a little hiccup, and when he pulls back, Lothar can see he’s tearing up.  That would be alarming, except Khadgar had teared up and started crying after accidentally stepping on a lizard three days ago.

Khadgar’s lips are wet against his neck and he makes a desperate little whine when Lothar disentangles him.

“You have really blue eyes. And your hair is pretty and fluffy and you look like a _lion_.“ Khadgar smiles, his whole face lighting up.  He looks adorable, like a newborn kitten or something.  Lothar sighs and kisses the mage’s forehead.

The noise Khadgar makes is worth the cost of the alcohol.

And Khadgar’s hangover the next morning.


	2. Nuzzling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Khadgar. Nuzzling. Lothar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same 'verse as drunk!Khadgar.

Khadgar’s weight across his back is far lighter than Lothar would have thought, given the younger man’s frame.  But it makes him an easier burden to carry, and who is Lothar to complain about an easy task these days?

The mage is exhausted from constant shielding, and Lothar won’t begrudge him this.  Besides - and he’ll never admit this to anyone - the soft little noises Khadgar makes when he sleeps are adorable.

Soft little breaths puff across his cheek, enough to remind Lothar that the mage is still alive.

He smiles when Khadgar shifts and readjusts his grip so the mage doesn’t slide.  He hasn’t carried anyone like this since… Not since Callan was a child.  The memory is bittersweet, now, rather than bitter.  Callan would be laughing at him for being such a soft-touch, before offering to take a turn carrying the mage.

Khadgar seems to always know when someone is thinking about him - or speaking about him - because he turns his head this time.  Lothar smiles when the little puffs of breath across his cheek stop.  Khadgar makes a pleased noise, and presses his nose against Lothar’s neck.

Lothar smiles and keeps walking.  He can almost see the lights of Goldshire in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't they just so damn cute?


	3. Dragons!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Khadgar is a dragon, and eats an orc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be _that_ dragon fic. The one that started the others.
> 
> Prompt: Liontrust AU: Khadgar isn't just a mage, he's actually a dragon. WoW!dragon or some other dragon, up to you. Bonus if there's basking in the sun with dragon Khadgar and Lothar resting on him.

Lothar’s first impression: _Sweet Light_.

After he lands on his back, he looks up. And up… And watches as a massive dragon swallows an orc _whole_.

His second impression: Oh _shit._

The giant muzzle - filled with absolutely _massive_ teeth - descends towards him, and Lothar scrambles for… For his sword, for his boomstick, for a moderately sharp stick, because sweet Light there is a dragon and it just ate the orcs.

His third impression:  _Where’s Khadgar?_

The dragon makes a humming noise that Lothar can only think of as ‘distressed’.  Lothar holds his breath when the giant muzzel bumps gently - far too gently for a beast the size of a small cottage - against his chest and head.  The distressed humming continues.

Fourth impression: _Khadgar_ is _the dragon_.

The blue muzzle draws back, and Lothar watches the dragon - holy blessed _Light_ , Khadgar is a _dragon_ \- stamp its massive clawed forelegs in obvious distress.  Not it. _His_. Khadgar is a _dragon_.  A blue dragon.  The sapphire scales glitter in the sunlight filtering down through the trees, and Lothar is still stuck on ‘Khadgar is a dragon’ when it speaks.

“…oops?“

Lothar passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally archived [here](http://dragormir.tumblr.com/post/147240345768/liontrust-au-khadgar-isnt-just-a-mage-hes).


	4. Let Sleeping Dragons Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepy dragons and sleepy lions in Karazhan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: sleepy Liontrust dragon!Khadgar cuddles

Lothar stumbles across Khadgar napping in a small nook in one of the unused levels of Karazhan, blue cloak draped over over his back, between his wings.  He makes the softest little crooning noises as he sleeps - noises that, as Lothar has come to learn, match the soft little snores he makes when he looks more human.

The dragon cracks one eye open and yawns widely, displaying a maw full of large, sharp teeth.  Then he closes his mouth and lifts a wing up. Lothar smiles at Khadgar and sits down on a bench to take his boots and chestplate off. The scales along Khadgar’s sides and under his wings are still soft, and Lothar doesn’t want to damage them.

He leans against Khadgar’s side and stretches his legs out in front of him.  Khadgar drops his wing again, covering Lothar in blue-tinged darkness.

“We’ll finish cleaning…later,” Khadgar yawns, curling up around Lothar and laying his head across the human’s legs.

Lothar pats Khadgar’s neck gently and closes his eyes.

“Of course we will.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally archived [here](http://dragormir.tumblr.com/post/147415586298/sleepy-liontrust-dragonkhadgar-cuddles).
> 
> Come give me prompts!


	5. Sleepy Lions and Mage Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar is sleepy and Khadgar is a good pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: *chants* Chubby!Khadgar. Chubby!Khadgos. Chubby!Khadgar. Chubby!Khadgos.
> 
> Annnnnnnnnnd...sort of? Meh.

Khadgar ran his fingers through Anduin’s hair and turned another page in his book.  The commander had stumbled into his room an hour ago and had grumbled about stupid nobles, stupid diplomats, and stupid orcs ruining his life as he tugged his boots and socks off.  He had tossed his cloak in the direction of Khadgar’s desk and had promptly crawled into the mage’s bed.

Now, his head was pillowed against Khadgar’s stomach, and he was sound asleep.  Khadgar smiled as Anduin grumbled something in his sleep and returned his attention to his book.

“Soft,“ Anduin mumbled under his breath.  Khadgar looked down and saw Anduin looking up at him, one eye open and still murky with sleep.

“What was that, love?“

“You’re soft,” Anduin yawned, poking Khadgar’s side gently. “Perfect pillow.“

Khadgar laughed and shook his head. “Go back to sleep, Anduin.“

“You _are_ ,“ Anduin insisted, closing his eyes. “Nice and soft and warm.“ He smiled.  “Perfect place to nap, right here.“ He turned so he was on his back. “I love you.“

Khadgar bent to kiss Anduin’s forehead and smiled when the commander slipped back into sleep.

“I love you too.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pointless fluff. This whole thing is just going to be pointless fluff.
> 
> Hit me up on [tumblr](http://dragormir.tumblr.com/).


	6. Pokemon and Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar will keep control of this gym or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Liontrust Pokestop!AU
> 
> I know jack shit about Pokémon, so....meh.

At this point, Khadgar is only changing the ruling team of the gym just to fuck with whoever keeps taking control at two in the morning.  He honestly doesn’t even care for this stupid corner coffee shop - it is inferior to the one next to his apartment, but it’s the _principle_ of the thing. The entire neighborhood belongs to his team, except for this _fucking gym_.

Hence, why he is staking the place out at two in the morning.

Normally, this would be _weird_ and people would call the cops on him, except this place apparently _loves_ the fact that it’s a gym and has changed its hours to support players who keep battling over territory. Also, you get a free muffin if you have enough Pokémon on your team, so…

Alright, he’s here for the muffins too. It’s not _his_ fault his favorite coffee shop ever doesn’t have muffins this good.

Annnnnnnd… There is a guy approaching. Playing Pokémon on his phone. He stops, and looks up. Khadgar can almost see the look of annoyance on the man’s face and prepares for the inevitable fight. He is _keeping_ this gym, and no one is going to take it from him.

Instead of starting a fight for the gym, the guy sits down across from him and takes his hat off.  He’s _hot_. Khadgar is now completely and utterly willing to change teams for this guy. (Almost. He’s _way_ too lazy to change teams. Also, too lazy to battle for control of all the gyms he’s currently keeping control of, again.)

“Please stop changing this gym,“ the man says, totally reasonable. He even _smiles_ , and Khadgar melts a little in his seat.  Except. No. No way.

“Why should I?“

“…Because I said _please_ ,“ the man repeats. He holds his hand out. “Anduin Lothar.“

“Khad.“

“Khad. _Please_ stop changing this gym. It was my son’s.”

The name _clicks_ , and Khadgar looks down at his phone.  “Oh. Yeah… Uh. Sure. Sure, man.“ He looks up.  “So…“ He suddenly feels awkward.

“Is it true that you can find Squirtles over by the lake in the Cathedral district?“ Lothar asks.  “Callan loved those things, but I can’t find any of the fucking things.”

Khadgar pulls up his pokedex.  He can stand to lose a few…

The gym stays with Anduin’s team.

Khadgar switches teams a month later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anduin is also the king of unintentional guilt-trips. Jsyk.


	7. Wing!AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar's wings fascinate Khadgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: wing!AU where mages DONT have wings, but everyone else does. Khadgar is fascinated by Lothar's wings.

Khadgar’s hands are soft against his wings. If he were a romantic like Cally, Lothar would call them softer than a kiss from a butterfly. (Cally had said his hands were like a breeze from a hurricane against her wings. Always teasing, always smiling. She’d loved his hurricane-breeze hands, preening her feathers.)

The mage’s hands are soft, and his face is alight with joy when he combs dust and loose feathers away.  Khadgar’s back is smooth skin and bony shoulderblades, devoid of wings.  His smile is stiff and brittle when Lothar runs his fingers over bony shoulderblades that never turned into wings.  The smile becomes less stiff, less brittle, less likely to shatter every time Lotahr presses a kiss to bare skin.

Khadgar is fascinated by wings, and by Lothar’s in particular.  His hands are soft and small, delicate in a way Cally’s never were.  Lothar wonders, not for the first time, if a mage’s wings are burned away, and never voices it. Khadgar’s smile still turns brittle when the matrons of Stormwind cluck their tongues sadly at him, comment that he is not quite right, comment that something must be wrong.

When Lothar molts, Khadgar keeps the feathers and ties one into his hair.

His smile is not so brittle then, not so stiff. Lothar kisses him gently, and the smile is sunlight again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar learns how to shapeshift, eventually.


	8. The Mage's Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That thing is going to eat him some day, Lothar is sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Everything is the same except Khadgar has an animal companion the whole time that really wants Khadgar to get closer to Lothar. Maybe a wolf/dog?

The black snake usually draped around Khadgar’s shoulders was…distressing.

For Lothar, it brought up far too many memories of the trolls.  Also, he was pretty sure it was trying to decide if he was edible and if it could eat him before its master realized what had happened.  And it just…kept…turning up. _Everywhere_.

If Lothar was there, the snake would appear within minutes. Training yard, war council, library, in the aerie with Padswift… That damn snake would appear within five minutes, and not long after that, a red-faced and slightly out-of-breath Khadgar would appear to scoop his pet up.

The mage always looked so sorry that Lothar almost felt sorry for him. _Almost_. And then that snake would curl around Khadgar’s shoulders and flick its creepy little tongue at him.

The snake was going to eat him someday.

Still, he did, somewhat - and would never admit it - enjoy seeing the black snake pop up in the corner of his eye, sunning itself on a recruit’s discarded armor or on the seat under a window in his quarters or on a warm rock in the aerie, because the mage was never far behind.

If the snake were anything else, Lothar would have been sure that the beast was attempting to matchmake.  But it was a snake. Snakes were _not_ that smart.

Were they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue snake puns and innuendos...


	9. The Mage's Snake (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callan hates that snake more than his father does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: More with the snakefic. I need more of Khadgar and his *terrifying snake*. Possibly someone making *terrifying snake* jokes at Khadgar and/or Lothar.

“The commander’s afraid of his mage’s snake.”

Callan stifled a groan and wondered how long it was until he could leave his post. The jokes were getting to be too much to handle. Of all the pets his father’s new _lover_ could have had, why did it have to be a _snake_?  Of all things, a _snake_. In a kingdom that hated them because of the damn _trolls!_

“Really? I seem to have heard him praising that snake quite profusely earlier.“

Gossiping servants should be _banned_. Especially ones that made terrible jokes.

“No, he couldn’t have been.”

Callan’s shoulders slumped and he didn’t bother stifling the groan this time as the litany of snake puns continued. He was going to find Khadgar and strangle that sna-

 _Fuck_.

He needed a drink. Somewhere no one was making snake innuendo.

Or else someone really _was_ going to be hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Callan.... *cackles forever*


	10. Wing!AU - Flying with Lothar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar will get over his fear of heights if it kills him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Wing!Fic please. Lothar carry Khadgar on flight or sth.

Khadgar had never flown.

Having never had wings, he had never learned to love open sky. (And had, Lothar had to note, never had to deal with the absolute _morons_ who were also flying up there.) Not flying, to Lothar, was akin to having his wings cut off and his legs broken.  It would be _torture_.

Khadgar _had_ to fly.

The only problem was that, somehow, Khadgar was afraid of heights, and he did _not_ like being carried. (Too many soldiers had reported Khadgar fleeing on foot, rather than allowing a soldier to carry him to safety.)

Lothar’s solution was simple: Strap Khadgar to a gryphon’s saddle and lead him on a simple flight.  At sunrise.

Khadgar could only clutch the saddle nervously when Lothar helped him up, knuckles white on the horn.  Lothar patted his leg comfortingly.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Lothar promised. “And Padswift would never let you fall.“

Khadgar nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed.  Nerves.  Lothar remembered how Callan had been, the first time he had tested his ability to fly.  The boy had been fine.  But then, he’d trusted his father and the royal guard to catch him.  Khadgar had never learned to trust anyone to catch him.

Lothar patted Padswift’s shoulder and stepped up to the edge of the aerie. Over the horizon, the sun was just beginning to appear, staining the sky with pink and orange hues. It was going to be a beautiful morning, and Khadgar would enjoy it before the sky became filled with guards and the occasional moron.

He leapt from the edge with a whoop and, a second later, heard Khadgar’s choked scream as Padswift launched off the edge of the aerie. Lothar beat his wings until he was above the city and hovered there, waiting for the rays of the sun to reach him.

“Oh. … _oh_ , it’s so _beautiful_ …”

Lothar smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar goes flying a lot more after that.


	11. Aro and Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not love, but it's close enough for Khadgar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Ace!Khadgar and Aro!Lothar with happy ending

Lothar gives him a new book, blank.

It’s not love, and with Lothar, it never will be.  Khadgar smiles and plans what he’s going to fill it with - runes, maybe. Or sketches of battlefields. Another sketch of Lothar sleeping at his desk. The book is good quality, and the paper feels fine between his fingers when he rubs a sheet between them.

It’s not love.

Khadgar points to the attractive men and women he sees, and allows himself a smile when Lothar grunts, unimpressed.  It’s not love, exactly.  Lothar will always come back to him, will never bring someone into the bed they share, but it’s not love.

He’s not everything Lothar wants.  ‘Too clingy’ Lothar had once said, affection tinging his voice, his hand heavy on Khadgar’s head as he ruffles the mage’s hair.  That’s fine by Khadgar - Lothar’s not everything he wants either.

It’s a partnership, though.  They’re enough of what they want for each other. Enough to make it work.

It’s not love.  If Khadgar were asked, he would call it a partnership.  He and Lothar fill enough space for each other to be comfortable, and not more than they’re asked to fill.  A partnership is compromise and mutual agreements.

Khadgar loves Lothar, even if Lothar will never express the sentiment in return.

But Khadgar is the one Lothar returns to, and the only one he allows to see him when he is vulnerable.

It’s not love, but it works out anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They care for each other, and it works for them.


	12. Wing!AU - First Flight with a side of smol!Callan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Flight is traditional. Participating without wings is....not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Wing!Au tiny!Callan gets to go on his first flight (with his dad) and Khadgar doesn't want to impose on a family-moment. Neither of the two Lothars is pleased bc the entire family should be there for this (also, Callan heard there would be some gifts for him afterwards and less people mean less gifts).

First Flight was a big deal, no matter how wealthy a family was.

Khadgar _knew_ that. He had vague memories of his siblings and _their_ First Flight parties.  He’d never had one, of course. Mages didn’t have wings and, thus, no need for First Flight, let alone a party.  All the same, though…

All the same, he had been invited to be part of Callan’s First Flight.

And he didn’t want to intrude.

First Flight was for family members who could fly.  As he wasn’t family or possessed of wings, it just wasn’t _right_.  Even the parties weren’t really… Well. Anyone who’d taken part in First Flight could attend the party, and the family members who weren’t well enough to fly came for the party afterwards.  He just…

He wasn’t family. He couldn’t even fly, even _with_ magic.

He didn’t want to intrude.

But Callan was standing in front of him, wings fluffed up and a distressed look on his young face as Khadgar failed to respond to his request to join the First Flight.  It just wasn’t…

Khadgar felt the feather he’d taken from Lothar brush against the side of his neck and felt guilty and unworthy.  He wasn’t…

What was he _doing?_

“I can’t fly, Callan,“ Khadgar offered in a weak voice, untying the feather from his hair.  He’d have to put it away.  Why had he… His smile turned brittle. “I’m sure you’ll have more fun without me there anyways.”

“But…“ Callan’s eyes filled with tears. “But everyone else will be there!“

Crying children were common in Dalaran. Khadgar remembered just how easy it was to set off the waterworks.  Take away a favorite toy, take away sweets at dinner because someone had set a teacher on fire, tell everyone that there were never going to be First Flight parties…

His shoulders fell and he felt guiltier than before as he knelt down to Callan’s level. “Callan, I _can’t_. Don’t you understand? I don’t…“

Callan started crying, and Khadgar was genuinely at a loss then.

“…I…“ Khadgar trailed off. “Maybe I can borrow a gryphon…“

It wasn’t traditional _or_ acceptable, but… Well, he _was_ the Guardian.

He was glared at for the entire Flight, but Lothar and Callan were both pleased to see him, and that made up for the intrusion.

Lothar braided the feather back into his hair during the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And everyone who tried to make Khadgar feel bad for joining in had to face Lothar.


	13. Wing!AU - Callan and the Incessant 'Why'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small children ask 'why' incessantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: DAMN YOU AND YOUR SADS. Wing!Fic, Tiny!Callan where MAGES are the only ones with wings, and Khadgar takes Callan up flying, with Lothar on a gryphon aww'ing at his adorable family. -shakes fist at you for sads-

Khadgar sighed as he felt small fingers brush against his folded wings.

One day of peace was too much to ask, in Stormwind. One day, where he was allowed to read in peace without Anduin Lothar’s young son asking the incessant ‘why’.

Why are you a mage.

Why do you dress like that.

Why do you have wings.

Why don’t you sleep in the aerie.

Why.

Not even _interesting_ why, just the usual ones. The ones that _everyone_ asked. Callan’s _whys_ were more insistent than the rest, and he _insisted_ on touching his wings.  No matter how many times Khadgar had tried to explain that it was rude, Callan kept touching them.  Khadgar couldn’t turn him away, though, as much as he wanted to.  Callan’s look of utter awe every time Khadgar’s wings flexed at the light touches were…worth it.

“Hello, Callan,“ Khadgar sighs, closing his book and rustling his wings just to hear Callan squeak in delight.

Alright, so maybe the incessant _why_ was annoying, but the delight made everything worth it.

“Can you carry people when you fly? Dad’s gryphon can.”

Khadgar rubbed the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. Backwards.  “Callan, I am not a gryphon.“

“But-“

“ _Callan._ “

Khadgar knew, without looking, that Callan’s face had crumpled and he would, in all likelihood, start crying silently at the rebuke.   He rubbed his temples with one hand.  Of late, Lothar had been taking much more interest in his son’s life, trying to make up for lost time - after the pass…

Well.

“If you _promise_ ,“ Khadgar said firmly, “to not ask me anything about my wings, for the rest of the _week_ , I will take you on _one_ flight around the harbor. Deal?“

Callan’s whole face lit up and he grinned, gap in his teeth showing. “Deal!“ he chirped, face still lit up with excitement.

Khadgar sighed. He could almost hear Callan’s first _why_ coming on for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Callan lasted an hour before he started asking 'why' again.


	14. Dragon!Gar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is no happiness and people are dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Dragon!gar angst prompt: They get overrun during a battle and Khadgos is forced to surrender with a knife to Lothar's throat. Lothar has to watch as Gul'dan sucks away Khadgos' magic and his life. Bonus if they beat him up a little before he dies. (I'm killing my own child lmao)

The blade was cold against his throat, and Lothar could feel his skin scrape against the edge every time he swallowed.

The orc holding his hair tilted his head back at an unnatural angle and said something in its guttural tone.  Lothar flinched and bit the inside of his mouth when the blade cut through his skin.  He wasn’t able to stop the hiss of pain.

The pained roar hurt more than the knife to his throat.

He could see, through the tears in his eyes, the great blue dragon, fighting against the orcs trying to pin it.  Khadgar.  They had tried. Oh _Light,_ had they both tried.

One last ditch attack, to hold the Horde back.  As if riding into battle on the back of a dragon barely large enough to hold him would keep the Horde at bay for longer than the time it took to laugh.  Lothar made a strangled noise and tried to shift, to relieve some of the pressure on his throat.  Khadgar. He had to keep still, or-

Gul’dan was standing in front of him, wretched face twisted into a smile.  Lothar bared his teeth in a silent snarl as the orc studied him, gnarled hands resting on the top of the staff.  Gul’dan’s eyes were alight with glee, and he seemed on the verge of dancing with joy.  (And there was a mental image Lothar didn’t want to die having.)

The warlock said something to the orc holding Lothar and the warrior felt the pressure on his hair increase until he was forced to his feet to relieve the pressure. Even so, he could feel hair parting ways with his scalp and hissed again.  The orc prodded him forward, knife still pressed dangerously close to his throat.

Khadgar was pinned, now, held to the ground by nets and a cruelly barbed chain wrapped around the delicate scales of his long neck.  He made a feeble noise and flapped his wings uselessly against the ground.  The tears pricking at Lothar’s eyes spilled over as the feeble roar turned to a pained, warbling cry.  The same cry Khadgar had made so many months ago - the cry of a dragon whelp for its mother.

“Now, you _watch_ ,“ Gul’dan snarled in his ear.  Lothar could do nothing _but_ watch.  The warlock had what he wanted, had what _Lothar_ wanted. What he should have been protecting…

Khadgar’s warbling cries turned to screaming.

Or, perhaps, it was Lothar screaming.

They let him fall, when it was done.  Fall to the ground, to his knees.

Let him fall, and cradle Khadgar’s massive head in his arms.

Perhaps it was him who was screaming, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's dead, Dave.


	15. Enchantment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar will smile and pretend to be happy if it kills him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: a noble woman places an enchantment on lothar so that he falls madly in love with her just before khadgar works up the courage to confess

Khadgar grit his teeth and forced a smile onto his face. He looked like he was in pain, but the smile apparently passed muster.

Not that it mattered.

He couldn’t bring himself to hate the woman on Lothar’s arm.  Not when Lothar was happy.  Not when…

Alright, yes, he _could_ actually hate that woman. And imagine setting her ridiculous wig on fire.  Or setting _her_ on fire, because he was apparently petty and jealous and quite willing to kill someone over something as stupid as…

Oh, he was stupid, alright.

Stupid and in love, and too stupid to-

Lothar was happy.

That was what mattered.  Lothar was happy. With someone who wasn’t _him_.

Khadgar forced his smile to stay in place as Lothar passed him again, laughing at whatever that harpy had said.  He could feel his nails digging into his palms and drew a deep breath to force himself to relax.  He could imagine setting that woman on fire.  He could imagine her bursting into flames and be as petty and jealous as he wanted, because fuck being _polite_ about Lothar’s engagement.  Fuck Lothar’s happiness to, for that matter.

He grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant and knocked it back as quickly as he could.  Well, if he was going to piss off the entire court, he might as well have the same excuse Lothar always used.

Time to see just how many enchantments the harpy had on to make her that alluring…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the story of how Khadgar accidentally discovered a dread infiltrator.


	16. Dragon!Gar - Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar raises the sword and feels _nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Dragon!gar: lothar finds out that khadgar is a dragon and tries to kill him

The tableau looks something like this:  Lothar, in full armor, naked sword in hand, looking every inch the storybook hero.  On the ground in front of him, cowering and chirping in terror, a half-grown drake with shimmering blue scales.

Running through Lothar’s mind is a single thought: Protect Stormwind.

Dragons are, and always will be, a threat to Stormwind.

He holds his sword with both hands, and steels himself against the pathetic chirps issuing from the drake’s mouth.  Dragons are monsters. They destroy kingdoms because it amuses them.

The _thing_ on the ground is no different.

It is not the young man with shy smiles and a too-earnest nature.

Dragons are deceitful. It is their nature.

The _thing_ only wore the face of a human.

The thought runs through Lothar’s mind: Is there a boy, somewhere, locked in a tower? Or, if he finds this thing’s lair, will he find the gnawed bones of a young mage named Khadgar?

He raises his sword, and feels _nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just a nightmare. Don't worry.


	17. Curse of the Worgen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Even a corpse would tell us something..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: lothar gets bitten by a worgen, there is no cure

The beast prowled around the cage, eyes gleaming in the light from the torches.

Khadgar sat on a stool outside, just beyond what he knew was the creature’s reach. He rest his chin on the backs of his hands, frowning.  Of all the things…  He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.  Of all the things that could have brought Anduin Lothar down, being turned into a feral _monster_ was not something anyone had predicted.

No one was really sure if Lothar was even still in his head, or if the beast had taken over completely.  He had, in the beginning, responded when his name was called - even if that response was snarling and slamming himself against the bars of his cage.  Now he barely responded.

Queen Taria had stopped visiting weeks ago.

Khadgar returned every day, to stare and think and wonder what he could have done differently.  Sometimes he talked, about how Callan was filling the shoes his father had left him.  About how Varian had learned some new words that had his father turning wrathful towards whomever had taught the crown prince to say those.

He’d thought, a few times, that Lothar had been looking out at him through those gleaming lupine eyes, but…

They were calling Lothar a werewolf.  No one knew what else to call him.

If only…

 _“Even a corpse would tell us something,”_ Lothar had said, what seemed a lifetime ago.  But that had been about orcs, not monsters that walked like men but looked like wolves.  Khadgar buried his face in his hands as a bitter laugh left his throat.

Khadgar looked up to see the thing in the cage staring at him with eyes that looked far too much like Lothar’s.  It’s lips were drawn back in the approximation of a grin, and as he watched, it let out something akin to a low laugh.

The mage left, a shiver of unease crawling down his spine.

There was no cure. He should stop beating himself up over what had happened to Lothar.

He went back the next day anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But on the other hand, the orcs have to deal with this shit too.


	18. The Lion Shifters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not the weirdest thing Khadgar has discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: What if Khadgar find out that Lothar is really a lion (like shapeshifter) and tiny!Callan is a little lion cub. (Inspired by your fic title, The Smallest Lion. lol Really love that series so much)

Lothar’s mane was soft under his fingers, and the giant lion rumbled contentedly as Khadgar combed his fingers through it.

Of all the things Lothar could have been keeping secret, Khadgar had never counted ‘being a shapeshifter’ among them.  And, to be quite fair to Lothar, the commander did deserve to be able to shock him once in a while.

A soft mewl grabbed Khadgar’s attention and he grinned as a lion cub tumbled into his lap.

Apparently, the whole family could shapeshift.

Lothar rumbled unhappily when Khadgar’s fingers left his mane, but the rumbling returned to purring when the mage had resettled Callan on his lap and returned to brushing Lothar’s mane with his fingers.

Callan let out another soft mew, and Khadgar laughed.

Well, even Lothar deserved to shock him once in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were-lions make great pillows for naps.


	19. The Lion Shifters (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar does not need a babysitter, damnit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: lion shifter!Lothars: Lothar man(lion)handling the mage. Knocks Khadgar onto his back and books it when a patrol goes south, sinks his teeth into Khadgar's clothes and drags him off to sleep, etc. (Also that "laying on Khadgar to make him sleep" thing I saw people talking about) -POKES REPEATEDLY-

Khadgar turned to the next page in his book and put his chin on the back of his hands so he could still see the pages.  A warning growl in his ear made him roll his eyes.

“I _am_ resting,“ he grumbled, scanning the pages.  A large, furry head landed on his, forcing him to faceplant on the book to avoid a cricked neck.  The growling turned to purrs as he shoved the book away and closed it.

“Happy now?“

His answer was a lick to the ear.

“Lothar, you disgust me,“ Khadgar sighed, reaching awkwardly behind his back to pat the lion’s shoulder.  “Really, I _am_ resting. You didn’t need to _lay on me.”_

The lion shifted around on his back, and Khadgar resisted the urge to growl as a large, rough tongue began sliding over his hair.  _Of all the things…_

 _“Lothar!_ You don’t need to groom me! I’m _fine_! _”_

The grooming continued and Khadgar buried his face in his mattress as he screamed.

Of all the people King Llane could have sicced on him to make him rest, did he really have to choose the one that turned into a lion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar gives up. Eventually.


	20. Cassandra's Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is a prophet, who will never be believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: khadgar is a prophet cursed to never be believed and he foresees lothars death

Khadgar wrapped his arms around Lothar’s waist and buried his face in the warrior’s back.  Early morning light was just beginning to break through the clouds, illuminating the room he shared in pale grey light.

“Go back to sleep spell-chucker,“ Lothar murmured, patting Khadgar’s hands.

Khadgar squeezed tighter, starting to tremble.  Unbidden, tears started trickling down his cheeks.

“…Spell-chucker? Khadgar?“

The mage hiccuped when Lothar squirmed out of his grip and turned to look at him.  Alive. He was still _alive_.  The vision hadn’t come to pass yet.

“Another nightmare?“

Khadgar nodded mutely.  It was easier for people to accept that his visions were simple nightmares. It was easier for _him_ to tell people that they were nightmares. Nightmares were silly things that went bump in the night. Silly things that could be laughed away.

Visions were never believed.

“Go back to sleep,“ Lothar murmured, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“…Lothar?“ Khadgar whispered.  He felt Lothar look at him. “The pass. I dreamt you died.“

Lothar laughed.  “No one can kill me, Khadgar. Now go back to sleep, and dream of something pleasant.“

Khadgar closed his eyes and willed the visions to stay away.

At least he’d planted the idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But hey, Khadgar tried, and that's what matters.


	21. Court Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar hates parties, when Lothar has to act like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Khadgar hates it when, sometimes at court and occasionally elsewhere too, Lothar acts like a stuck up noble.
> 
> _ANXIETY ATTACKS AHEAD. YE BE WARNED._

Under the cut for descriptions of anxiety attacks.

Khadgar sat on the ground behind a pillar, knees drawn up to his chest.

He wasn’t, as one noble he’d overheard say, sulking.  Sulking was for lesser mortals, not the Guardian.  And besides, even if he _was_ sulking, it wasn’t like he didn’t have cause.  Lothar was…

Honestly, Khadgar wished he was sulking.

No, he was hiding behind a pillar because watching Lothar behave like every other noble in Stormwind was apparently enough to give him an anxiety attack.

Sulking was fun. Sulking did not have the gut-clenching nausea and shortness of breath that came with bouts of anxiety.  Sulking implied that he was merely jealous, instead of going over every interaction he’d had in minute detail, all while his mind told him he was worthless and that Lothar only tolerated him because he was still _of use_.

Sulking meant he was upset about being ignored.

Anxiety meant hiding because otherwise he’d vomit and start crying, which would send him spiraling even further down the hole of his failings, perceived or otherwise.

It truly _was_ stupid, and he hated himself for it.  Lothar had a part to play in Stormwind and he was just the silly little boy overreacting to _everything_.

Khadgar buried his face in his knees and started to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a sequel chapter.


	22. Fel!Gar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fel consumes everything it touches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: fel!corrupted khadgar taking his own life an lothars in his last moments of sanity so that they can die together

Lothar chokes as arms burning in green fire encircle him.  Khadgar.  The boy is being consumed by the Fel, and…

“Don’t leave, _please_ ,“ the young mage whispers in his ear.  Lothar stiffens. He has seen, firsthand, what the Fel can do. His eyes flick down, into the remains of the font, and sees Medivh’s body. So normal, now that that _thing_ is gone from him.

He knows what the Fel can do.  He raises a hand and awkwardly pats Khadgar’s arm where it crosses over his chest.

“Alright. I’ll stay.”

Khadgar sighs in relief, and Lothar feels green fire rush over his cheek.  There is no warmth to it, like a real fire. His cheek prickles and he feels as though lamp oil has been dropped on his face.  Not the best way to describe the sensation, because it is wrong, there is so much _wrong_ in the sensation and he wants to _scream_ until his voice breaks and his throat bleeds.

“I love you.“

Lothar chokes as Khadgar’s admission brushes past his cheek.

“I’m sorry.“  The mage kisses his cheek, and Lothar _screams._

* * *

He wakes up, flat on his back and dripping with sweat.  Khadgar is next to him, hair flopping over his forehead and lips parted. He looks peaceful, when the world can’t intrude on his thoughts.  A cold bead of sweat drips down the side of Lothar’s face, and he shudders, remembering the vividness of burning alive as the Fel consumed him.

Lothar slides out of bed. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep next to Khadgar again. Not tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But at least it was a nightmare, right?


	23. The Lion and the Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shapeshifting is fraught with dangers. (And laughter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Khadgar tries to shift into a raven and ends up only partially there. (wings, maybe some random feathers) Wing!Khadgar having trouble dealing with extra limbs that take up space and move seemingly on their own. Lothar having a bit of a wingkink. (Khadgar learning how to do this on purpose, for Reasons.)

“Oh, stop laughing!“ Khadgar all but wailed.

Lothar bent double, sides heaving.  Tears streamed down his face as Khadgar let out a pitiful little wail that turned into an equally pitiful cawing noise halfway through.  For some reason, that was the funniest thing Lothar had heard, and he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

“I hate you,“ Khadgar snapped.  Lothar’s laughter petered out to chuckles as he looked up through teary eyes and saw Khadgar perched on his bed, feathers fluffed up in agitation.

“That’s the funniest-“ And then he was off again, laughing at Khadgar’s predicament.  He didn’t know _what_ Khadgar had been attempting to _do_ , but the results were the best laugh he’d had in a while.

Khadgar’s irritated huff turned into a loud, disgruntled caw and Lothar heard something tear.  He looked up and saw that Khadgar had shredded one of the quilts on their shared bed with the claws that had replaced his feet.  His wings - magnificent, silky black feathers sprouting from his arms and, possibly, his back - were fluffed in agitation and he looked genuinely upset.

Lothar wiped the tears from his eyes and pushed himself off the floor.  He sat down next to Khadgar and stroked his fingers through the silky black feathers on Khadgar’s neck.

“I’m sure Medivh left his notes around here,“ he offered in a conciliatory tone. “He must have a way to reverse this.“

Khadgar let out a pathetic whine and buried his face in Lothar’s neck.

It took everything Lothar had to not start laughing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once Khadgar gets Atiesh, it gets a lot easier.


	24. Shapeshifters are not your friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, Lotahr would find him before he froze to death...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: a shapeshifter obsessed with khadgar disguises itself as lothar and kidnaps him

Khadgar shivered in the damp, chilly air of the cell and wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to warm himself.  He’d lost track of how many days he’d spent down here, in almost absolute darkness, at the mercy of something pretending to be Lothar.

The thing would come down every day - Khadgar thought it was every day - dangling some treat in Khadgar’s face.  All Khadgar had to do was say he loved the thing wearing Lothar’s face.

His face still hurt from where he’d been struck for spitting in the thing’s face.  It had been unusual and highly distressing to see a loved, familiar face contorting in fury.  The beating had seemed to go on forever, until it had finally stopped.

The thing had stared down at him, chest heaving and hand raised to deliver another strike.

“I’ll come back,” it had growled in Lothar’s voice, “when you have learned to _appreciate me_.“

That had been…quite a while ago.

The mage shivered again and curled into a ball, trying to conserve what little heat he had managed to retain in the chill air.  If the thing came back, Khadgar was sure he’d break this time, if only for some warmth or a ward against this chill.  He couldn’t recall ever being so miserably cold, even when he’d first left Dalaran and had become stranded in Alterac for a long, miserable winter.

He blew on his fingers, teeth chattering.

Lothar, the _real_ Lothar, would come for him. Soon.

Hopefully before he froze to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar is, on occasion, a self-rescuing princess. This is not that occasion.


	25. Dragon!Gar - Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon!Gar loves Lothar's socks. Lothar wishes he would find a new hobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: SMALL DRAGON!GAR GETTING INTO LOTHAR'S THINGS AND STARTLING LOTHAR WHEN HE POPS OUT OF RANDOM PLACES LIKE THE SOCK DRAWER (for ren's bday today)

“My socks? _Again_?“ Lothar groaned in defeat, resting his forehead on the wall.

The dragon whelp currently residing in his sock drawer looked up at him and gave a muffled, somewhat inquiring peep.  Lothar tugged the sock off the whelp’s snout and tucked it back into the recesses of the open drawer.

“My sister had the carpenter build you a perfectly nice nest box, next to the fireplace,“ Lothar said mildly as he watched the whelp burrow down in his socks with a contented chirp.  “It’s filled with all the shiny trinkets you could ever want, and has a cushion stuffed with gryphon down for you to lay on.  And you pick my _sock drawer_ as your nest.“

Khadgar let out a high-pitched trill that Lothar had come to identify as his laugh when he was in his true form.  He made a rude gesture at the whelp and grabbed two socks that were more or less matched.

“When I get back, you’d better be human again and in _bed_ , or in your nest box,” he ordered, shooting the whelp a dark look as he sat down on the edge of his bed to pull his socks on.  “And if I find any of my socks missing, you’re replacing all of them.“

The whelp trilled again and Lothar threw his hands up in frustration as he left.

When he returned, all of his socks had migrated to Khadgar’s nest box.

Khadgar trilled for five minutes when Lothar growled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lothar gives up on ever reclaiming his socks.


	26. Jealous Alphas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar is his Omega. Lothar just needs to remember to control his hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: What if: Alpha Lothar jealous because someone (alpha) try to court his omega mage or just lean too close / talk too flirty to Khadgar. Khadgar have to calm his alpha down.

Lothar felt the growl building in his chest a few seconds before everyone else heard it.

Khadgar looked up, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.  The soldier who had been _too close_ looked equally startled.  Lothar stalked forward, growl still rumbling deep in his chest.  Khadgar was _his_.

“…Lothar?“ Khadgar’s voice was small, but still enough to make Lothar stop.  It was instinct.  Khadgar was _his_ , and that meant his to protect as well.  He looked down, mentally calculating the time it would take to break every bone in the other alpha’s body for being close to Khadgar and distressing him.

“You…you need to stop growling. Please.“ Khadgar’s voice was even smaller as he voiced his request, and Lothar’s growl grew louder at how _terrified_ Khadgar looked.  Maybe he’d toss the other alpha into the harbor, just for good measure.

“Lothar, you are _scaring me_ ,“ Khadgar said, voice wavering.  He sounded scared, and the other alpha looked ready to commit murder on his behalf. Lothar deflated a little.  “Faerun just wanted to ask some questions about magic.“ His voice was still small, and his shoulders had hunched.  “He’s not going to try to snatch me away, I promise.“

Faerun nodded, grey eyes still wide.  Lothar took a deep breath and backed further away.  The soldier and Khadgar both relaxed, and Lothar felt like a heel.  Khadgar was an omega from Dalaran. Dalaran was in step with Lordaeron on how omegas were treated.  Khadgar had been sheltered from that while he had been the Novitiate, but….

“I’m sorry,“ Lothar ground out, cheeks burning with embarrassment - mostly at himself, for reacting so poorly.  “I’ll…sleep on the couch, or something.“

Khadgar nodded.  “Alright.“

Lothar left, muttering under his breath about the inconvenience of hormones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hormones are a two-way street. Lothar at least remembers that. ....sometimes.


	27. Dragon!Gar - Absent-minded Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar finds this whole situation funnier than Khadgar does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: the "Alodi is a blue dragon with a bad memory and also Khadgos' parent" thing!!! PLEASE I BEG

Lothar stared at the tall, lilac-skinned elf cooing over Khadgar.

He honestly wasn’t sure if he should be jealous, irritated, or amused.  The appearance of Alodi, the being who had apparently been in a box for the last ten thousand years, had shaken quite a few people up - Llane especially.  (It wasn’t every day a blue dragon the size of a small mountain snatched you out of the jaws of death, after all.)

According to Medivh - still unsure of _how_ he had survived his construct falling on him or the Fel taking over his body - Alodi had been the first Guardian.  A _human_ Guardian.  A _male_ human Guardian.

But who was he to question a dragon with an interest in humanity?

His friends were alive, he wasn’t an ice statute for laying his hands on Khadgar - _Khadgos_ , apparently, was the mage’s true name - and Alodi was…confusing.

Confusing was a good way to explain it.

The distressed cheeps coming from his mage as Alodi fussed over his hair made everything worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alodi keeps forgetting what form they have to be in. It works out, eventually.


	28. The Omega who is not having any of your shit today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar is the scariest person in Stormwind and will take no shit from anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: both omega!Liontrust. maybe Cally was Lothar's alpha and he never wants another one? BOTH OF THEM IN HEAT AT ONCE. or pre-heat, arguing over how to arrange the nest?

Lothar stalked up behind Khadgar and draped his arm over the young mage’s shoulders, a predatory smile on his face.  The noble talking to his mage looked distressed.

 _Good_ , Lothar thought, rather viciously.  This particular noble had a reputation in Lordaeron for being discourteous to omegas - even by _Lordaeron’s_ standards. (Which, admittedly, were almost non-existent.)

“Did you want something with my mate?“ Lothar asked, eyebrows raised and voice dark.

Khadgar was almost vibrating under his arm, as most untried omegas did when faced with an alpha.  Or, rather, how omegas not from Stormwind acted when faced with an alpha.  His hands were clasped together so hard his knuckles were white and he smelled afraid.

“You Stormwind omegas are too full of yourselves,“ the nobleman huffed.  Lothar gave him a lopsided smirk.

“Funny,“ Lothar said, “I could have just sworn I heard you insult me.“ He smiled, all teeth in a way that made alphas cringe away from him. “You may be a noble, but I am the commander of Stormwind’s armies and the queen’s brother. Choose the next words carefully.“ He looked at Khadgar, who had relaxed somewhat. “And apologize to my mate, or I’ll personally cut your knot off.“

The noble fainted.

Lothar led Khadgar away and managed not to start laughing until they were out of the ballroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lothar eats Alphas for breakfast. No, really.


	29. Court Anxiety (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lothar takes care of his mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: Lothar finds Khadgar crying - FROM YOUR ALL HURT NO COMFORT ANXIETY ATTACK FIC - and bundles him into his quarters and tries to comfort him and kind of panics a little but eventually gets him to calm down and smile. AND I WOULD LIKE CUTE FIRST KISSES. -slams fist on table-

His mage had disappeared at some point during the party.

Normally, Lothar wouldn’t worry, but it _had_ been some time since he’d seen the Guardian.  It wasn’t like Khadgar to disappear without saying goodbye first. He excused himself from conversation with some lord or other from Strom and began prowling the edges of the ballroom where Khadgar was sure to have hidden himself from the crowds with a book. 

A small smile made its way onto his face when he saw the mage sitting behind a pillar.

“There you are, spell-chucker,“ Lothar laughed.  The laugh died when Khadgar looked up, tear tracks still drying on his face.  “…Khadgar? Are you alright?“

The mage scrubbed his face with both hands and managed a bleary smile.  “It…it’s fine, L-Lothar,” the mage hiccuped.

“Let’s get out of here,“ Lothar offered, pulling the mage to his feet.  “I’ve had enough of the nobles for one night, and no one will miss us.“  He pressed a kiss to the younger man’s temple and wrapped an arm around his lover’s shoulders as he guided him out of the ballroom.

By the time they reached their shared quarters, Khadgar’s eyes were drooping shut and he was sagging against Lothar so badly that the commander had thrown propriety to the wind and picked the mage up to carry him the rest of the way.

When Khadgar had been settled on the bed, Lothar knelt down to unlace the mage’s boots.

“….do…do you think that….do you think I’m a failure?“ Khadgar whispered as Lothar pulled one boot off and set it aside.  He looked up, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

“Why would you think that?“ he asked, tone decidedly casual as he undid the laces on Khadgar’s left boot.

“….because….because your friends are dead. And…and it’s my fault.“

Lothar squeezed Khadgar’s stockinged foot gently and rubbed his thumb along the arch.  After a few minutes, he sighed.

“It’s not your fault, Khadgar. These things…“ He sighed and shook his head. “It’s not your fault, Khadgar.“  Lothar kissed Khadgar’s shin. “It happens.“ He smiled up at the mage. “Did you have enough to drink at the ball, or would you like a nightcap?“

Khadgar pulled his knees up to his chest and patted the mattress next to him.  “Just stay with me?“ he asked, eyes large.

Lothar smiled and began pulling his finery off. “You need only ask.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Khadgar and Lothar snuggled for the rest of the night.


	30. Whispers of the Old Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar's dabbling in magic left him vulnerable to things best left buried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: khadgars curiosity and dabbling in magic left him vulnerable to the whispers of the old gods

It’s easier to ignore the whispers when he constantly has to move, has to keep researching, has to keep just one step ahead of the latest crisis - whether it’s something he’s made or something that someone else has made.

 _They will all turn against you_.

It’s easier to ignore them after he runs from Dalaran.  He is too exhausted to pay attention to the whispers, too hungry to think about anything but not starving.  He sleeps without dreaming of great red eyes gleaming in the bottom of vast canyons or tentacles writhing in frozen halls or things in the crushing depths of the oceans, all waiting for the unwary to venture close.

 _Your friends will turn on you_.

He immolates an orc when the whispers become too much to bear.  He screams in raw fury, fire exploding out of him.  The other orcs back away from the charred remnants of their companion, away form the human mage howling in a language that makes their skin crawl.  Even his human companions back away when he utters words in that same vile language.

_They are planning to kill you.  Kill them first._

He finds it easier to ignore the words when the commander mouths wet kisses and whispered promises along his neck, praying to him as if he were a god.

_He will kill you._

But he ignores them.  There is something he will always need to do before he will give in to those vile words in a language that makes his skin crawl.

_You will die alone._

And when he hears that one, he wonders if the whispers will be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar deals with the whispering in the same way he deals with everything else: Poke it with a stick and see what happens.


	31. Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defeating the Fel took more from Khadgar than just his energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: after defeating medivh, khadgar loses his memory

He’s still Khadgar.

Just….

He’s not Khadgar.  Not really.  Lothar watches the young mage putter around the library, smiling in delight every time he sees a book he recognizes.  (The smile fades soon after, only to reappear when he sees another book. The cycle is heartbreaking, if Lothar dwells too long on it.)

The mages of the Kirin Tor say this cycle of near-remembrance and forgetfulness is a side effect of destroying a Guardian.  Of defeating the Fel.  Khadgar may remember, one day.  He may never remember.

The young mage picks up a book and carries it over to where Lothar is standing at the doors to the library.  His face flickers in confusion for a few moments, before that brilliant sunshine-smile spreads across his face.

“Lord Regent!“ Khadgar’s smile is blinding.

Lothar’s smile is a pale imitation, and the mage’s smile fades away.  Lothar feels guilty, and tries to put a more genuine smile on his face.   Khadgar’s smile is hesitant in return, not blinding like sunlight, but near enough.

“Come, Khadgar, it’s nearly nightfall.“

Khadgar chatters about the book in his arms, an unending flow of words that Lothar will never understand, but he nods anyways.  Books are the only things the mage can remember for more than an hour, before the thoughts flicker out like a dying candle.  It will pass, the Kirin Tor said.

Maybe.

Lothar chooses to believe that it will pass.

Anything else is unthinkable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar eventually starts to keep a notebook filled with things he should remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](https://www.dragormir.tumblr.com)


End file.
